MR. DIGGS IN A NEW FIELD.
Mr. Diggs was defeated for the office of county attorney by a large
majority, but he was young and buoyant, and after a few days of repining
began to revive.
A new excitement took possession of him. Strange talk came to his ears,
and his little round eyes glistened with delight from behind his
glasses, and his little round lips parted with smiles of pleasure. War
on a gigantic scale--a new Nation, with new men at its head--was the
all-absorbing topic. The Union was shattered, and a new Nation was
rising out of the ruins and fragments of the old.
Mr. Diggs concluded to espouse the cause of the new Nation. He would
raise a company of volunteers to fight its battles; he would be captain.
From captain he would be promoted for his bravery to colonel, from
colonel to brigadier-general, or commander-in-chief. Mr. Diggs' fertile
imagination planned a glorious future for himself. Other men had risen
from obscurity to renown, and why not he?
He strutted about with his hands thrust deep into his pockets, reveling
already in his future greatness. The new and powerful Nation was his
all-absorbing theme. When he met any one he would say:
"Well, what's the news, and what's the prospect of war?"
The prospect was very good, every one thought.
One day, talking with a young man about his own age, but cooler and less
blood-thirsty, Mr. Diggs said they were too slow about fighting. Since
the surrender of Twiggs in Texas no other event had transpired, and such
indifference was monstrous.
"Don't be in a hurry, Diggs," said his friend. "Let them have time for
consideration."
"There's no need of consideration. I am ready now. I will go, like
Marion, to avenge my country's wrongs," said Diggs.
"This is war against our own countrymen," said his friend, "and I don't
think there is any place in either rank for me."
"There is a place for me," said Diggs, strutting about with his hands in
his pockets and expectorating profusely. "My country needs me, and I
reckon there's a place for me."
"Will you take a colonelcy to commence with?" his friend asked, with a
smile.
"I don't expect a colonelcy at first," said Diggs. "I want to start at
the foot of the ladder, as captain, and gradually rise until I am
commander-in-chief."
"You would make such a noble-looking general!" said a bystander,
surveying the fat little fellow.
"You can talk, Howard Jones, but I--hem! hem!--have always had a taste
for military life."
"You would make such a fine-looking commander," said Jones. "Mounted on
a tall charger you would yourself strike terror to the enemy."
"I can prove that all generals were small men," said Diggs, strutting
about.
"Of course they were; but you--you would kill all your enemies. They
would die with laughter when they saw a general on a horse seventeen
hands high, looking like a bug on a log."
"Oh, talk sense, Jones."
"On a big war-horse you would look very much like a bug on a log," said
Jones. "But wouldn't it be grand for Crazy Joe's mud man to turn out a
general?"
"Can't you talk sense, or are you a fool?" roared the exasperated Diggs;
and, unable longer to endure the ridicule of his companions, he turned
abruptly around and left the crowd gathered about him.
The Winter of 1860-61 passed away; but little had been done in Snagtown
save mustering and speech-making. Those in favor of open rebellion were
in the minority in the neighborhood, but those in favor of neutrality in
the majority; but those in favor of standing for the Stars and Stripes
the smallest class of all.
Patrick Henry Diggs was in a dilemma. His ambition pointed him to the
battle-field, that his great abilities, which no one seemed to
appreciate, might be shown to the world. The idea of a new Nation
dazzled him and showed a path as splendor for his willing feet to
follow. But he felt reluctant to draw his sword against the flag of
Washington and Marion. He was sure, however, that these turbulent times
meant something great for himself. He never lost an opportunity to
muster in the ranks of the Home Guards or to make a speech.
The eastern part of Virginia seceded on April 17, 1861, but the
northwestern portion, about Snagtown, was at peace, save from the
mustering of Home Guards to protect home and families from the
incursions of either army.
Oleah Tompkins was an avowed secessionist, attended the Meetings of the
Knights of the Golden Circle, and was already sworn to support the
Southern cause. Secret meetings were taking place all over the country,
and night meetings held three or four times a week.
Mr. Diggs joined one of these secret organizations, and met with them
one night in an old school-house which stood on the side of an abandoned
road, about four miles from Snagtown in the direction of the Twin
Mountains. About forty in all had assembled there, among them Howard
Jones and Seth Williams, two men who seemed, Mr. Diggs thought, to live
only to annoy him.
Mr. Diggs had come to the meeting with the intention of making one of
his most patriotic speeches; but when he discovered his old enemies,
their eyes sparkling with mischief, his heart sank within him.
Nearly all present were armed with shot-guns, rifles and pistols, and a
guard was placed about the school-house. Preliminary matters settled,
Howard Jones rose and addressed the chairman of the meeting, stating
that, as they had with them the distinguished attorney, Patrick Henry
Diggs, who was in sympathy with the cause, he would like to hear from
him.
Despite the stirring times, everybody present was eagerly expectant of
fun. Cries for Diggs were heard all over the house. Mr. Diggs' opinion
of Jones rose rapidly.
"Mr. Speaker," began Mr. Diggs, rising and gazing about through his
glasses, "in the language of one of old
"'I come not here to talk. You know too well
The story of our thralldom.--'"
Here he made a gesture with both hands, which Jones declared looked like
a turtle trying to crawl up hill.
"'We are slaves.'"
A solemn pause.
"'The bright sun rises to his course, and lights
A race of slaves; he sets, and his last beam
Falls on a slave.
Friends, Romans, countrymen--'"
"I say," interrupted Seth Williams, in an audible whisper, nudging the
orator, "s'pose you leave Rome, and come down to our present age. Give
us something about the new Confederacy."
"That's just what I am coming to," said Mr. Diggs, "and I hope you will
not interrupt me again." After a short pause he resumed:
"It is no common cause which brings us here to-night. Tyrants and
traitors are abroad in the land. A gigantic foe is invading the fair
soil of Virginia, and we are here to protect our firesides. All law
writers, from Blackstone down, agree that all men should protect their
homes. Now, fellow-citizens, remember our forefathers all fought, and
bled, and died for this glorious Union." [Applause.]
"Touch lightly on that," whispered Jones.
"I repeat" said Mr. Diggs, "that Washington was the greatest man that
ever lived." And now, grown eloquent and excited, he mounted a bench and
whipped his left hand under the tails of his coat, while he waved his
right in vehement gesture.
All the efforts of Seth Williams and Howard Jones to keep him on the
track were unavailing. He commenced to speak about the Stars and
Stripes.
"Oh, thunder! go back to Rome if you can't make a better secession
speech," said Jones.
The truth was that Mr. Diggs, like a great many others at this time,
hardly knew which side he was on. When he swore to preserve the Union at
all hazards, his astonished friends pulled him down.
A call was made for volunteers, and Mr. Diggs was the first to enroll
his name. Though calling themselves a Home Guard, these volunteers were
really enrolled in the army of the Southern Confederacy. Oleah Tompkins
was among the first to thus espouse the Southern cause.
The clouds of war grew darker and darker every hour. At any moment the
storm might burst in all its fury. Snagtown was in a constant state of
excitement as the crisis approached. Her more timid citizens trembled
with dread.
Henry Smith, a farmer's son, a young man of limited education, but of
strong common sense, stood in the street one bright morning, engaged in
conversation with Seth Williams.
"Come, now, Harry," said Williams, persuasively, "you had better come in
with us. The time has come, or will soon come, when our homes will have
to be defended. We shall be overrun with soldierly hirelings, who will
rob and burn and murder as they go. Our families will need protection,
and this duty devolves on us."
"But, Seth, some say the Home Guard will be marched South into the
Confederate army."
"Oh, nothing of the kind," said Williams. "Our only object is to protect
our homes from the soldiers of both sides, and to meddle with neither
unless they invade our State."
"I think we are justified in protecting our own interests; but, though I
despise Abraham Lincoln, I cannot raise my hand against the old Stars
and Stripes."
"Oh, there is no danger that you will be forced into the Confederate
army. We are only organizing a Home Guard now; if we raise troops for
the South, that will be another thing."
"When do you meet again?" asked Harry.
"To-morrow night; we go into camp next week in real earnest."
"Where?"
"On Wolf Creek, about three or four miles away, between here and the
Twin Mountains."
"Where do you meet to-morrow night?"
"At the school-house on the road between here and Twin Mountains."
"I will be there," said Harry.
As Williams walked away, a young man who had been observing the two with
keen interest, approached Harry and said:
"I can tell what you and Seth Williams were talking about."
"I will give you three guesses, Abner," said Harry, laughing.
"He was trying to persuade you to enlist in the Home Guards."
"That was just it," replied Harry.
"Don't do it, Harry, or you will repent it. I tell you the name Home
Guard is only a cover, and every one who enlists will be in the
Confederate army in three months. Unless you mean to take up arms
against your country, keep clear of the Home Guard."
"I don't want to fight in Lincoln's army, nor do I want to enter the
confederate ranks, so I thought the Home Guards would be the place for
me."
"Don't you enlist," said Abner Tompkins, "or you will repent it."
As Harry walked away, Mr. Diggs came along, his short legs, in rapid
motion, resembling the thick spokes of a wheelbarrow, and his head
inclined backward at an angle of forty-five degrees, and his glasses, as
usual, on his nose, and his little fat hands thrust deep into his
pockets.
"Hold on, Diggs!" said Abner. "I want to speak to you."
"Hem, hem, hem!" began Mr. Diggs. "Good morning, Mr. Tompkins.
Well--hem--I am--that is, I am--hem--glad to see you. I was just going
to have my man drive me out to your house. Have a little important
business with--that is with one member of your family, he--he he!"
"Diggs, I hear that you have enlisted in the Confederate army; is it
so?" asked Abner, abruptly.
"Well, sir, I expect--that is, I apprehend, my dear sir,
that--you--perhaps are correctly informed."
"Why, Diggs, what in the world do you mean?" asked Abner.
"Oh, our country is too large; should be divided. We intend to build up
a vast Southern empire. The North has always trampled on our rights, and
it is time for us to resist."
"But how do you intend to resist? By overthrowing the best government
the world has ever known? Build up a Southern empire! Is not the grand
old republic established by Washington good enough for you? The North is
not trampling on your rights. Your wrongs are imaginary. And as to our
country being too large, can a nation like ours grow too powerful?
Think, Diggs, before you act, or, like Calhoun, you may expect
Washington to come to you in sleep, and place the black spot on your
hand which Arnold wears in the other world. Think Diggs! Don't raise
your hand against your country without well considering the matter."
Diggs, for a few minutes, was silent, and then he said:
"I think you are right, Abner. I will not prove a traitor to my country.
I shall ask to have my name taken off the roll to-morrow night."
"Do so, or you will surely repent it as you live. If you want military
honors, seek them in the ranks of your country. There is a call for
seventy-five thousand volunteers."
"You are right, you are right. I will go and volunteer. Where shall I
go?"
"We are raising a company at the junction, about twenty miles from
here."
"I will go day after to-morrow, but I am in a hurry now. I am going to
your house on business. The fact is--I don't mind telling the facts to
you--I am going on purpose to see Miss Irene. He, he, he! I am
determined to see how I stand there, he, he, he!"
Abner started back in amazement, but Mr. Diggs hurried away, without
observing his movement.
"The consummate fool!" muttered Abner. "The idiot! To think of our
Irene!"
Mr. Diggs hurried off with an air of much importance, and ordered Mose
to make ready the carriage, and drive him to the Tompkins mansion.
Mose was not as quick of movement as he had been fifty years before, but
he managed to have the equipage in readiness by four o'clock in the
afternoon.
At Mr. Tompkins' door Mr. Diggs alighted, to be informed by Miss Irene's
maid that her mistress was calling with Mrs. Tompkins, and would not
return for an hour.
"I will wait," said Mr. Diggs. "I must--hem, hem--must see Miss Irene."
After a few moments of waiting Mr. Diggs became tired of sitting in the
house and sauntered out to the piazza, and there met the ladies on their
return.
"Miss Irene,--hem, hem, hem," he began advancing. "I am delighted to see
you, I--hem--that is--hem--I came on purpose to see you, and--and talk
with you, and bid you good-by before I leave for the field of glory. I
have joined the Confederate army--hem--no, I mean to say I am going to
join the Union army in a day or two. That is, I don't know exactly which
army I shall join yet--and I come to bid you adieu."
Irene looked a little puzzled and felt not a little annoyed at this
address. There was something she did not like about Mr. Diggs' manner.
"Will you come in?" she said, "and I will see you presently."
Mr. Diggs accordingly re-entered the house, and Irene went up to her
room to change her dress. She managed to detain herself until tea was
announced and then invited Mr. Diggs to the dining-room.
After tea the little fellow followed her back to the parlor, and she
resigned herself to be bored for an hour or more by him, but did not yet
suspect the real cause of his visit.
"Hem--hem," began Mr. Diggs, "Miss Irene, these are troublous times."
"They are indeed," answered Irene, from her seat opposite the loquacious
Mr. Diggs.
"We don't know one minute what will happen the next."
"No, we do not," said Irene, who really did not imagine what was to
happen on this occasion.
"Hem, hem! two large armies are raising."
"So I am informed," said Irene.
"And they mean destruction to each other."
"I fear some damage will be done."
"Hem, hem! Sumter has fallen."
"So I have heard."
"Deuce take it!" thought Mr. Diggs aside, "she is as cool as an
iceberg, and I am getting flurried. What had I better say or do next?"
Then a short pause.
"Some of your friends will doubtless take part in the coming struggle,"
he finally said.
"I fear they will be rash enough to do so," she replied.
"And some may go to return no more,"--voice and eyes were growing
pathetic.
"Alas! such is too often the fate of war."
"I have concluded to enter the army."
"A great many young men are now talking of going into the army."
"I feel that my country needs my services."
"You are patriotic."
Mr. Diggs felt flattered.
"You are--hem--hem, very kind, Miss Irene, to attribute patriotism to
me. Patriotism, true patriotism is one of man's most noble attributes."
"I agree with you."
"But, Miss Irene, it is hard to go, even to our country's aid, and leave
behind friends dearer to us than life."
"Mercy!" mentally ejaculated Irene, "does the little fool mean to
propose?" Then, still without any encouraging warmth in her tone, she
asked, "When do you expect to leave Snagtown?"
"In two or three days at most, and I feel--hem--pardon me, Miss Irene."
He rose and drew his chair nearer hers.
"He really means it!" thought Irene, her eyes bright, half with
mischief, half with annoyance.
"I have something--hem, hem, hem!--I wish to say to you. I--I--that
is--hem--I cannot leave for the field of danger until I--have--hem, hem!
until I have revealed to you my feelings."
Mr. Diggs paused, and tried to look sentimental; but a more sheepish,
simple-looking specimen of humanity Irene was sure she had never before
beheld.
The farce had been carried too far, and she said coldly:
"Your manner and words are quite incomprehensible, Mr. Diggs."
"I will make myself plain," said Mr. Diggs, swallowing something in his
throat, and taking hope. "You shall understand me. I say I cannot leave
for the field of battle, cannot face the cannon's mouth, in this
suspense--"
"Then don't go, Mr. Diggs," interrupted Irene, with difficulty
restraining her merriment, all her pity put to flight by his affectation
and conceit.
"I should almost feel inclined to turn a deaf ear to the 'obstreperous
trump of fame,' and 'only list to love and thine,' should you command me
to stay."
"Sir, you are growing more and more incomprehensible. Let us leave this
subject."
"Not yet, oh no, not yet! Wait until you have heard all. I love you,
Irene, dearest, and--and--ah! come to my arms and say you will be mine!"
Down he went on one knee, with upturned face and out-stretched arms.
Poor Irene felt an almost irresistible impulse to laugh, and for a
moment dared not speak.
He mistook her silence and again began to plead.
"Speak, O brightest sylph, fairer than the angels, sweeter than--hem,
hem!--than the honey in the honey-comb!"
"For mercy's sake, stand up, Mr. Diggs!" said Irene.
"Not until you say you will be mine!" and his arms expanded, like an
opened double gate.
"Then Mr. Diggs, I fear you will never reach the field of glory, for the
war will be over before you rise from your knees," said Irene.
"Oh! ah! Hem, hem! You cannot be so cruel,"--still kneeling, and leaning
further forward, as though to compel her to his embrace.
"Mr. Diggs, you can never be to me more than a friend. Pray, do not
pursue the subject further."
"Miss Irene, dear, dear Miss Irene, you utterly wreck my life! I care
not a straw for it now!" whined little Mr. Diggs, turning, still on his
knees, towards Irene who had crossed the room, the most pitiful of
faces.
No answer.
"You are--hem, hem!--very cruel, Miss Irene," he rose and awkwardly took
his seat.
"I regret to have given you pain," said Irene graciously, as, at Mr.
Diggs' request, she rang for his carriage, "but I am sure you will soon
forget it, and will see that you had mistaken your feelings."
As Mr. Diggs was in the act of getting into his carriage the sound of
horse's feet came to his ear, and a moment later Oleah Tompkins galloped
up to the side of the old rockaway.
"Halloo, Diggs! are you just leaving?" asked Oleah.
"Yes--hem, hem!--I am going home," said Diggs.
"Well, be on hand to-morrow night without fail, now. We want every
member of the company there, as we shall go into camp in a day or two."
"Well,--hem, hem, hem!--Oleah, I have almost concluded not to go. I can
not--hem, hem!--take up arms against the flag of Washington."
"Oh, that's abolitionist nonsense! What care you for a flag that will
not protect you?"
"That's so," said Diggs.
"Then why should we consent to bow our necks to tyrant's heels simply
because the great and good Washington fought under a rag with certain
stripes and certain stars upon it?"
"That is so. Hem, hem, hem! 'They first have breathed treason.'"
"Yes, they stole our property. The interests of the North and South are
directly opposite. They want to ruin us, and we must protect ourselves
while we can. We can not live in peace with the North; the next best
thing is to separate."
"That's so,--hem, hem!--that's so," said Mr. Diggs.
"Then why refuse to enter the Confederate army? The South is your
country, and if you want military renown seek it in the ranks of your
country. If they call you a rebel be proud of the name. Washington and
Marion were rebels."
Mr. Diggs was completely won back to the Southern cause; and, assuring
Oleah he would be with them the next night, drove away.